


Her Haunted Eyes

by BrideofCrixus



Category: Gemma morrow - Fandom, Sons of Anarchy, Sons of Anarchy RPF, Tig Trager - Fandom, gemma and tig
Genre: F/M, References to past trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:54:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29412981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrideofCrixus/pseuds/BrideofCrixus
Summary: Takes place in the midst of Season 2 episode 2. I’ve only just started watching the show on Hulu, so future stuff I don’t know, doesn’t apply. I’m currently at Season 3 episode 8.When Gemma returns from St. Thomas’s and despite the claims of a car accident, Tig sees past and sees what no one else sees. I also take some creative license of the order of the received Halloween mask at the shop.Tig wants to take revenge, bring her human hearts in velvet-lined boxes, anything. The Huntsman serving his Queen.I hope you enjoy, xoxo
Relationships: Comfort - Relationship, Friends - Relationship, Friendship - Relationship, Revenge - Relationship
Kudos: 1





	Her Haunted Eyes

Tig opened the door between the shop and office. His eyes found Gemma standing at the window, staring off at nothing. 

Gemma hated that she flinched when Tig caught her elbow.

“Tell me what happened.”

Gemma shook head and casually tugged her elbow from his grasp as she fumbled for her half-empty pack of cigarettes. “What are you talking about?”

Tig captured her upper arm, his strong fingers pressing into her taut flesh, making her pause and meet his searching gaze. “Hey,” he finally said softly as he saw her hand tremble as she took a long drag off her cigarette. 

Gemma pretended to not hear him and would’ve gladly embraced any deity for the phone to ring and stop Tig from talking. 

“Gemma?” Tig murmured.

She looked over and met his penetrating gaze as he continued lowly. “You can tell me anything.”

Gemma blew out a ragged breath along with an acrid cloud of smoke before she sniffed hard and nodded. “I know, thank you.”

Tig pressed his lips together and played the staring game with Gemma.

He blinked first. “Never mind,” he finally growled as he stomped out of the office.

Tig slammed drawers in the shop, he would’ve eviscerated himself at Gemma’s feet if she would only talk to him. His mind envisioned a worse scenario after catastrophic incident as the days and her courtesy interactions continued.

He gladly jumped on the gun run north that came up to get some quick cash and arrived at the shop early to check the engine’s oil and tire pressure. 

Tig saw Gemma slip around the rear of the shop, looking around before ducking behind the building. Tig crushed his just lit cigarette and jogged around the other side of the building as Gemma dropped something into the industrial green dumpster.

He hugged the building until Gemma returned to the shop and soon heard her on the phone with an Oakland auto shop for a catalytic converter price.

Tig lifted the heavy plastic lid and tugged the Sherman’s bag from the pile of black trash bags. 

He frowned as he pulled the white, distorted mask from the brown paper bag. 

Tig examined the mask in detail but didn’t find anything that made it stand out as anything immediately significant. 

He dropped the paper bag and took a deep breath to steel his nerves before he returned to the garage and waited until Gemma ended the call before he walked into the office. 

“What’s this?”

Gemma looked up, startled at Tig’s sudden appearance but rattled when her eyes fell on the mask she thought she’d thrown away.

“Looks like a mask.”

“Why’d you throw it away?”

“Someone delivered it here by accident, no need to add to the clutter,” she said carefully, gesturing to the messy office. 

Tig shut the door from the shop to the office and looked around before shaking the mask lightly. “What is this?” he asked again, trying to keep his tone casual.

“It still looks like a mask Tigger.”

Gemma stared at Tig, so many emotions filling her eyes as she steadied her breathing, relief flooding her agitated central nervous system when she heard Clay and some of the others arriving.

“Leave that there Tig, I’ll throw it away later. You should go make sure you’re packed,” she said with a measure of steadiness in her voice. 

“Goddamnit Gemma,” Tig growled and threw the mask on the floor and stalked to where the others were coming to a stop as he lit a new cigarette.

The guys were a couple hours out of Charming and Tig’s frontal lobe kept getting assaulted by images of Gemma being left alone. He signaled to a park with public restrooms and made up a story about explosive diarrhea, blaming a bottle of tequila from the night before. He shook off any help getting back and as soon as the guys were out of earshot, slipped back on his Dyna Street Bob and raced back to Charming.

Tig finally reached Charming, hating that he had to stop for gas. He kicked a trash can over when he found the shop closed and the office door dark behind its locked door. 

Tig sped across town to pound on Gemma and Clay’s front door.

He heard her cockatoo screech before the door opened.

Gemma wiped her tears off her flushed cheeks when the porch light illuminated Tig.

“Tig? Is everything okay?”

“It’s all okay,” Tig murmured, keeping his expression neutral as Gemma opened the door further so he could come in. His eyes fell on the peep of her bare toes from under her satin robe.

He was glad she had the house to herself. 

“Hey,” he said lamely as she settled back on the sofa and pulled a blue afghan over her lap.

“What’s wrong Tigger?” Gemma asked, knowing the answer to the question as she asked it.

Tig ran a hand through his thick dark hair and drank directly from a bottle of scotch, speaking after a few burning swallows that spread warmth throughout his chest and belly. “I want, need, to say something.”

Gemma sat up straighter and smoothed the soft fabric over her lap and waited.

“I, oh goddamnit, I love you.”

“I love you too Tig.”

Gemma gave a surprised cry when Tig set the bottle aside before closing the distance between them as he dropped to his knees in front of her and buried his head in her lap. 

“Tell me who hurt you,” he begged before his voice broke with a series of sobs. “Tell me, I will bring you their hearts,” he groaned as his shoulders shook. 

Gemma ran her fingers through his hair for a long time before softly whispering the one name she knew for certain, the one who would lead to the other two masked cowardly rapists.

Tig looked up at her and wordlessly held her eyes for a long time before he rose to his feet, pulling her with him, wrapping her up in his strong embrace. 

“I’ll make everything right, I love you,” he whispered against Gemma’s temple before giving her a chaste kiss.

“Thank you Tigger,” Gemma called to his back as he walked back to the still warm engine.


End file.
